Going to Pasalacqua
by Wyvern's Elucidated Brethren
Summary: [chapter 3] [slash] Seamus has developed a crush on our favourite Slytherin. It's only a matter of time before something happens. Oh, dear.
1. Here we go again, infatuation

A Seamus/Draco slash fic by the Unholy Trinity of Wyv, Bel and Lan, inspired by the song "Going to Pasalacqua", by Green Day, from the album 39/Smooth.   
  
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all things Potter. Green Day own the lyrics to "Going to Pasalacqua". We own the album the song's on :)   
  
Warning: Slash. Ye like not, ye read not, understand?   
  
*************************************************************************************************  
  
*Here we go again, infatuation/ Touches me just when I/ Thought that it would end*  
  
Gods, you're beautiful. Beautiful like a marble statue, and about as warm. I stare at you across the classroom, and I think, why? Why me? Why you? Hell, why not? And as I stare at you, as I forget that adding dragon's blood while the cauldron is still on the fire is dangerous, as my cauldron explodes with the force of a small bomb, I can't help but think how it would be if we ever got together. Even though I realise it's impossible, I can't help thinking about it, and I smile.   
  
"What's so funny, Finnigan?" demands Snape, swooping down on me like an overgrown bat.   
"Nothing, sir," I reply, still grinning.   
"Well, laugh at this: Detention, tonight, eight o'clock." I curse inwardly and look over at you. You're smirking in that evil but oh-so-sexy way I find just plain irresistible.   
  
Damn you, Malfoy. Why do you have to be the sexiest, most shaggable guy I've ever laid eyes on? Why? Is it the notorious bad-boy charm? I've fallen for a few bastards in my time, but they weren't like you. You just seem to ooze a dangerous appeal. And I must admit I'm quite partial to a bit of danger. Keeps life exciting, doesn't it?   
  
No-one knows about this, amazing as this might seem. I can keep my secrets when I want to, and believe me, I don't want anyone to know about this, they'll want to get me certified or something. It's my very own little secret, and I'm rather proud of it. I might consider letting you know one day. Maybe.   
  
I'm amazed at how long I've had this thing for you. It started sometime in fifth year, I think. No signals, no warning that this was about to happen, nothing. There I was, quite prepared to hate you for being the irritating, snobby Slytherin that you are, when this infatuation pounced on me and sank it's teeth in, and I started to realise that, despite your obvious character flaws, despite the fact that you're the son of the most notorious Death Eater on the planet, you are perfect. You have the perfect body, you're gorgeous.   
  
At first I dismissed it as some sort of temporary insanity caused by too much sugar or something, and I'd almost got myself convinced when the dreams started. Erotic dreams. Dreams about you and me, dragon hide, whips, handcuffs - you name it, I dreamt it. I even surprised myself. And it just grew from there, I guess.   
  
But, you know, sometimes you can be such a twat that I forget all that and go back to hating you, like any normal, sane Gryffindor should. Then my infatuation starts taking over again, because I notice that you've done your hair differently and it frames your face beautifully, or you sneer, curling your lip in that oh, so sexy way that I love. Or even it's just because that Pansy Parkinson has latched herself onto you, and I start feeling jealous. It's never-ending. Just when I think it's over, it pounces again. It's just not fair, really.  
  
I'd love to be the one to break that icy exterior. To plunge below the surface and find a Draco Malfoy that no-one knows, that I alone hold the key to. A warm, caring, maybe even sensitive Draco Malfoy, a Draco Malfoy who could love. Hell, fuck that, I'd give anything for just one night of wild, unbridled, passionate sex with you.   
  
However, despite my fantasies, I know that we'll never be together, and it kills me. It's not just the fact that I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin, even though that alone would make any kind of relationship impossible. There's also the fact that I'm a half-breed, a Mudblood, and that would offend your precious Pureblood pride. I'm also the most annoying bastard in the universe. Why would you ever look twice at me?   
  
But I look at you. Oh, yes, I look. I can't help myself. Every day, in Potions, or Care of Magical Creatures, I look over at you, and lose myself once again in my fantasies. What would it be like to kiss those lips? What would it be like to run my hands over that skin that looks so soft? Damn you, Draco. Why? Why couldn't I find someone worthier to lose my heart to? Someone who a) could love me as much as I love them and b) is not a Slytherin.   
  
I'll tell you why. Because anyone else just wouldn't be the same. They wouldn't have that beautiful, shiny blond hair, those stormy, grey, gorgeous eyes, that slim, sexy, athletic body, that perfect, pale, flawless skin.   
  
You'd better be careful, Draco. One day I might find the courage to act upon my desires, and then where would we be? 


	2. I'm not sure exactly what you're thinkin...

Thanks for the lovely reviews: DragonMage, Ambrosius, whitebearwrites, RainShadow and Crazywish. Here's more just for you.  
  
I say again, this is SLASH. If that is not to your liking, please hit your back button now.  
  
We do not own anything Harry Potter. The lyrics to 'Going to Pasalacqua' belong to Green Day.  
  
Bel xxx.  
  
***  
  
*Oh but then again it seems/ Much more than that but/ I'm not sure exactly what you're thinking*  
  
I hate Draco Malfoy. I hate Draco Malfoy. I hate Draco Malfoy. It's almost like a daily mantra: wake up, try to forget sexually explicit dream, chant 'I hate Draco Malfoy,' go down to breakfast, see Draco Malfoy, resume chanting. If I keep saying that, I might just believe it. It'll be hard, but doable. Maybe.  
  
I hate Draco Malfoy for the fact that he's such an unbelievable twat, but so loveable at the same time. I hate that annoying smirk, but at the same time I love it because it makes him look ultra-sexy. Does that make sense? No. Do I need help? Oh, yes, someone help me!  
  
"Seamus!" hissed Ron, nudging me in the ribs.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean you've been staring at the same spot for about ten minutes and you're being quiet. Who's so fascinating this week?"  
  
"I bet it's that little blond Ravenclaw," said Harry. "You know, the one in the year below on the Quidditch team?"  
  
"Nah, it'll be someone a little less innocent, Seamus likes sluts," chimed in Dean. "I bet it's that Nathan Thomas from Hufflepuff, word is he's already worked around half the sixth year."  
  
"It's none of them," I murmured, keeping my eyes on the sexy blond Slytherin.  
  
"Then who is it?" demanded Harry.  
  
"None of your business, Potter."  
  
They tried to get me to talk but I wasn't going to tell them. They'd probably rush me off to St Mungo's or something. I probably deserve it. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin? You must be bloody mad. That's exactly what they'll say. And it's true. I am mad. Mad for Malfoy.  
  
I wish I knew what you're thinking, Draco. Like when you catch my eye, and smirk, and wink. I think you know, but the fact that you're not doing anything about it drives me insane. I know it's gonna be up to me to do something, and I'll only end up embarrassing myself horribly. Maybe you feel the same, maybe you don't. I just wish you wouldn't play such games.  
  
"Bloody hell, whoever Seamus is infatuated with this time must be one hell of a looker!"  
  
Infatuation? Maybe. Or maybe more than that. I don't know. I've been infatuated with other blokes before, but I've usually forgotten about them within a week. It's more of a long-term thing with you. I've been lusting after you for nearly three months now. That's my longest ever non- relationship. I just wish I knew what goes on in your head.  
  
*  
  
Double Potions. Monday morning. It's official: There is no God. If there were, we wouldn't have Double Potions first thing on a Monday morning in the damp February weather with Snape. The wind howling outside sounds like a banshee. It's freezing in the dungeons. I can't concentrate, because Draco is sitting right in front of me….  
  
And I'm partnering him today. Oh, help. Helphelphelphelphelphelphelp….  
  
"What's the matter, Finnigan?"  
  
Gahhh…  
  
"Stop gawking, you look even more stupid than usual."  
  
Gahhh…  
  
"Finnigan!"  
  
Gahhh…  
  
"Anything the matter, Malfoy?"  
  
"Finnigan's being an idiot, sir."  
  
"No change there, then."  
  
Gahhh…  
  
Okay, snap out of this, he thinks you're an idiot, well done boy. No, look at what you're chopping, not at him, do not look at the Gorgeous One… Oh, bloody hell, I've cut my finger!  
  
"Ow!" I muttered, sucking my wounded finger.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Finnigan?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Sometimes you act as though you've got less brains than Longbottom. And the ones you do have you keep in your trousers." Git. I hate you, Malfoy.  
  
"Leave my trousers out of this. They're no concern of yours."  
  
"I guess not. Pity." Really? This could be good…  
  
"Really? Why 'Pity'?"  
  
"I like leather."  
  
"They're not leather, they're dragon hide."  
  
"You shouldn't wear dragon hide. If the makers had known they'd be wasted on you, they would never have been made." Forget 'hate'. I LOATHE you! Sexy bastard.  
  
"Oh, really?" was all I could come up with.  
  
"Really. They'd look so much better on me, I've got a nicer arse than you."  
  
"I-I-I-I haven't really been paying much attention to your arse," I stammered.  
  
He leaned in close to me, causing me to shiver.  
  
"Liar," he whispered.  
  
"Maybe so, but since when have you been looking at my arse anyway?" He just smirked and said nothing for the rest of the lesson, and when the bell went he swept away without so much as a glance in my direction.  
  
Draco Malfoy, what's going on in your head? 


	3. What the hey!

Thanks go to: Thatz Classified Information, not so fairy L, Az the crazed vamp and Just Silver. Yeah, yeah, I know we said we'd only continue with Dace and the sequel to I'm Still Me, but this one bit me again and I just couldn't resist. Feedback greatly appreciated. Flames will be used for warmth this winter. Wyv xxx  
  
***  
  
*Well I throw away my past mistakes/ And contemplate my future/ That's when I say/ What the hey*  
  
Right, that is it. I've had enough of this mental torture you're putting me through, Draco Malfoy! I see you every day, and every day you look at me, and you'll smile, or you'll wink or something and you make me go crazy! I know you know I like you, and I'm going mad wondering just exactly how you're going to use this information and when you're going to embarrass me with it.  
  
Potions is a lovely daily torture. We seem to be partners a lot now. It's your fault, isn't it? You just want to keep the poor, helpless, stupid Gryffindor Mudblood in a state of delicious agony. Well, I've had enough. I want answers from you, Malfoy, and so help me I'll get them!  
  
Hang on. . . Malfoy has a detention tonight, he was caught playing up in Care of Magical Creatures. So maybe I could do something in Potions to make sure I have a detention with him? Okay, so it's not the best-laid plan in the universe, but right now, short of storming up to your dorm to kidnap you, it's the best way I've got of getting you on your own. I mean, I can hardly talk about everything with your two goons there, can I?  
  
"Seamus?" I jerked back to the present. Harry was staring at me from across the lunch table with a grin on his face. I shrugged and returned to prodding my steak-and-kidney pie.  
  
"Harry."  
  
"You just giggled. What are you planning?"  
  
"And when are you going to tell us the name of your mystery man?" sighed Dean. "I've given up trying to work it out!"  
  
"I've told you before, I'm not telling you who it is, you'd think I was mad," I replied.  
  
"Right, we've already worked out that he's in our year and we have classes with him. It can't be too difficult," said Ron. "Is he a Gryffindor?"  
  
"Not saying."  
  
"Hufflepuff?"  
  
"Not saying."  
  
"Ravenclaw?"  
  
"Not saying."  
  
"Ye gods, it's not a Slytherin, is it?"  
  
"I've told you before, Ron, I'm not saying."  
  
"But it's not like you to be so secretive about who you fancy. Usually the whole school knows before you've even worked it out for yourself!"  
  
"This one's different." I only allowed myself a brief glance at Draco, before seeking out cuties in the other Houses. I can't give anything away, at least not until I'm sure where I stand with Draco. Malfoy, sorry. I must stop calling him 'Draco'. It's like I'm fond of him or something. Oh, bloody hell, damn these hormones!  
  
Right. Malfoy next, I mean Potions. Damn, I have to get that boy out of my head. All this lovesick yearning cannot be healthy for a growing boy.  
  
*  
  
"Ah, and what a surprise, I'm partnering Finnigan and his dragon-hide trousers!" I bit my lip as Malfoy moved next to me, smirking in that ever- so-slightly evil and devilishly sexy way of his.  
  
"Afternoon, Malfoy. Forgive me if I make no comment about your trousers, but I haven't really been looking at your lower body."  
  
"And again you tell me lies, Finnigan. You shouldn't do that. It's naughty." Malfoy winked. Oh, bloody hell, I'm losing it. . . of course, there'll be some who argue that I never had it to lose in the first place, but still. . . gahhh!  
  
"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" I snapped. He just smirked and continued adding things to the cauldron. I was dimly aware of having to chop something up, so I pulled the dead Flobberworms to me and started slicing.  
  
"Finnigan, once again your capacity for understanding instructions is amazing." I jumped as Snape appeared at my shoulder. "I quite plainly said that the Flobberworms were to be sliced lengthways, not widthways. Ten points from Gryffindor for the inability to listen in my lessons." I sighed, and went to get some fresh Flobberworms. Malfoy reached out and patted my hand.  
  
"There, there, Finnigan. Don't look so sad. I'm sure the Golden Boy will earn those points back in yet another wanton display of heroics." I froze. Malfoy still had not let go of my hand. I tried to pull it away but he gripped harder.  
  
"Excuse me, but I kind of need my hand if I'm supposed to chop these bloody things properly. Wouldn't want the potion going wrong now, would we?" Malfoy removed his hand, grinned, and licked his lips. That was it! No more of this! I cracked and threw the mutilated Flobberworms right into his smirking face.  
  
"That's it, Finnigan!" roared Snape, bearing down on me. "Detention! You will be joining Mr Malfoy in the Trophy Room at nine o'clock this evening, and hopefully you'll be able to work out the hostility between yourselves. Maybe then you'll be able to concentrate in my class!"  
  
Oh well, at least it worked. 'Til nine o'clock then. Maybe I'll finally get my answers.  
  
*  
  
I arrived at the Trophy Room five minutes late. The fact that I was late wasn't my fault; I'd run into Peeves halfway up a staircase, and he'd tripped me up, sending me falling right back down to the bottom of the stairwell. One day, I swear I'll get my own back on that blasted poltergeist.  
  
"You're late," remarked Malfoy. He'd already rolled up his sleeves and started polishing a large trophy.  
  
"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed."  
  
"You look rather flustered. Is the sight of my arse in these trousers really too much for you?"  
  
"Right." I snatched the duster and polish out of the boy's hands and stood in front of him. "What the bloody hell is going on, Malfoy? You've been playing with me for ages now, and I want some answers!"  
  
"I've just been having a little fun, Finnigan. Playing a game of cat-and- mouse, if you like."  
  
"Oh, really? So why are you chasing me?"  
  
"Because you like me, and it's amusing to watch you struggle with your emotions."  
  
"Well, stop it, it's not fair!" Malfoy laughed. My throat was suddenly dry, and I felt panicky. He had a sort of hungry look in his eyes. Oh, help, what have I got myself into?  
  
"Don't worry. I'm tired of that game now." He moved closer to me. I wanted to get out of there and run, but a Finnigan has never run from a challenge, so I stood and stared defiantly into his grey-blue eyes. "I want to play a new game."  
  
"Wha." I broke off as his mouth covered mine, and his tongue forced its way into my mouth. Well, me mam did always say it was rude to talk with your mouth full. . . 


End file.
